E-mails from Lester Wimhodge
by ghostfacekiller39
Summary: EdgeworthXFranziska. Nervousness; a typical emotion felt when a person has romantic feelings for another. Unfortunately for Edgeworth, the circumstances surrounding his feelings make nervousness a vast understatement, so he takes an extra measure to protect himself that he's not so proud of. My attempt at returning to my roots as a romance writer. R&R, dudes! :P
1. Chapter 1: Nervousness

CHAPTER 1

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**DISCLAIMER: Capcom owns these characters, not me.**

**A/N: In baseball, in order to maintain consistency over a long period of time, you have to make adjustments; little changes in your footwork at the plate, the angle at which you throw if you're a pitcher, etc.; just little, tiny things to your approach towards the game itself. **

**However, too big of an adjustment over a short period of time would usually yield poor results, generally in the form of a slump, which is always difficult to recover from, and some players who had promising careers (Dontrelle Willis, Steve Blass, and Chuck Knoblauch are some notable examples, if anyone knows who they are :P) will never break that slump, effectively ending their careers. **

**I've actually learned something; that doesn't just apply to the game of baseball. It can apply to anything in life. **

**I'm a romance writer. Period. End of discussion. I don't know whether you're applauding at your computer or what, but it's cool; I've always known that's what I've been, because of my dedication to the most beautiful aspect in life, at least in my personal opinion.**

**My last story was a bust, so bad to the point I had to delete it; I wasn't enjoying it, and from opinions I gathered, a good number of my readers weren't either. I made too big of an adjustment over too short of time period.**

**It put me in my own slump; I wanted to try to write a romantic one-shot to pick up my spirits, but I couldn't even pick the characters I wanted to be in it. I looked up a few prompts, and this was the best one I found. This'll be 7-10 chapters, and idk, 11,000 to 16,000 words, in that area. I'm picturing this to turn out to be like one of those smaller books you find in your library in elementary school; I just hope it's not as cheesy :P**

**Please enjoy, sorry for the long note (I think it was necessary), and Happy Reading Dudes!**

**-ghostfacekiller39**

* * *

Miles Edgeworth's fingertips were hovering over his keyboard, trembling with nervousness and fear; his plan was certainly of questionable morales. He looked over the sign-up form for a new e-mail account once more under the guise of checking for any errors he could've made, but he knew he was just stalling for more time. His eyes reached the bottom of the page, and he quickly clicked enter, submitting the sign up form before he could have any second thoughts.

He watched his computer's loading screen and sat back in his chair and looked at the ceiling of his apartment, hands over the top of his head as he blew out a sigh. He wasn't doing anything illegal, but still, this was so far out of the norm for him.

_I couldn't have concocted a more hair-brained, idiotic scheme...I have no idea why I think this is going to work. _

The ringing of digital bells sounded out from his computer monitor, and a message reading _Welcome, Lester Wimhodge!_ popped across the screen. He had felt an anagram would be the most appropriate means of concealing his true identity; he had always been more of an analytical thinker than a creative thinker, anyway. He clicked the link to the inbox of this Lester Wimhodge person he created to find it, albeit unsurprisingly, empty. He got up to make himself a cup of tea; if he thought just making the account was stressful, he knew he wouldn't be able to use it the way he had planned without the comfort of a cup of refreshing tea, the way his father used to make it for the two of them on those lazy Sunday mornings of his youth.

After he had placed the teapot on the stove to boil, he gazed out the window that sit above his sink to see the afternoon sun shining in a light blue summer sky as he waited for the whistle to sound off; _It must be around 3 o'clock...that means it's midnight in Germany, so Franziska is surely asleep. _

The teapot whistled a high-pitched shriek that broke Edgeworth from his train of thought. He picked it up and poured into his favorite teacup, taking a sip after it filled to test it's worth; he found it a bit soothing to his nerves.

* * *

You see, Miles Edgeworth was a lawful man, in case that wasn't obvious; after he returned to his luxurious apartment from his day job at the high prosecutor's office, he often spent his evenings with his pet labrador and constant companion, Pesu, watching either the evening news over a cup of tea, or, whenever possible, and despite him priding himself being a sane and logical human being, re-runs of the Steel Samurai: Warrior of Neo Olde Tokyo. One of his biggest regrets in life was being part of the reason of the series' cancellation, along with its spin-off, the Nickel Samurai.

However, even the most lawful of men could be given what could be called either the equivalent of Atlas' burden or the fulfillment of mankind's desires.

Oh, and what a bittersweet burden it was; the circumstances surrounding his feelings of intimacy were less than what would be considered 'normal' for another man.

After all, Franziska von Karma was still 19 years old, living on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, and, most of all, his adopted little sister.

* * *

He walked through his living room and saw Pesu asleep on the floor, dreaming of running. Edgeworth stopped on his path back to his home computer to watch his canine companion kick his legs around in the floor, sound asleep. He smiled to himself and continued on his route back to his destination.

He took a seat at the computer and logged back into his-erm-_Lester Wimhodge's-_personal e-mail account to send Franziska von Karma an e-mail; he knew she preferred hand-written sentiments, as did he, but there was no other way for Lester Wimhodge to contact her.

He typed her name into the recipient's box, and immediately pushed his fear and doubt into the back of his mind, at least temporarily, and began pondering as to how to 'break the ice' or so they said.

_What does she like to talk about...? Right, herself. _He took a sip of his tea; with that, he knew exactly what to say.

His fingers began flying over the keys of his keyboard.

_Greetings!_

_My name is Lester Wimhodge; I'm currently studying to become a prosecuting attorney, and I was wondering if The Prodigy herself could offer any advice? It'd be greatly appreciated!_

He proofread his e-mail and moved his right index finger over the send key; those thoughts of fear and doubt resurfaced, and he quickly struck the keyboard, sending the message.

With that, he hurriedly got out of his seat and went into the living room to fully enjoy his day off, his deed for the day having been accomplished.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

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**A/N: Chapter 2. German translations are at the bottom, in the order they appear. Remember, I'm doing this entirely with my own knowledge of the language, so they might not be 100% accurate, but I guarantee it's not too far off. I hope you enjoy, dudes!**

**Happy Reading Dudes!**

**-ghostfacekiller39**

* * *

Franziska von Karma inserted the key to her office into the doorknob and turned; she had only one thought on her mind; actually, less of a thought, more of a person.

_That foolish intern better have my coffee right. I fear might have been too forgiving yesterday morning._

She opened the door to her office in the Berlin Prosecutor's Building to find the intern (she had forgotten his name, not that she cared to learn it, anyway.) waiting for her, a silver tray balanced on his palm in a butler-like fashion, her cup of coffee waiting for her atop of it.

_"Ah, Frau von Karma, Ihre morgendliche Tasse Kaffe, nur fur Sie gemacht."_

He handed her the cup; she took it, dangled it between her left hand fingers for a bit, closely examining the cup and its contents for any and all imperfections before taking her first drink. Finally, when she was done looking over the mug, she took a sip.

A tense silence fell over her office; not so much tense for her, but for the intern who was visibly shaking.

She let the aftertaste sit in her mouth; it didn't taste _too _different from how she wanted it, but there was still something out of line. Something that made it less than perfect. _...Not enough sugar._

Once she figured it out, she broke her silence. She was never known for being a bashful one, and she certainly wasn't going to change that for some foolish intern.

"_Falsche!_" _CRACK!_

After being struck with her whip, the intern started cowering down, protecting his face with his hands. _"Ach! Es tut mir leid, Fraulein von Karma! Es tut mir leid!"_

She threw the coffee cup back at him; _"4 Zuckers, 3 Cremes!" CRACK! "Du Narr!"_

He quickly picked the cup back up and hurried out of the room to fix her cup of coffee the right way. After he had left her office, she sat down in the 100% Italian leather chair stationed behind her desk, rolling her whip up and setting it where she wished a case file would be; they only sent the most important cases up to her office, and the Berlin crime scene had been quiet as of late. She turned on her computer and the monitor along with it. The generic background of a vast country meadow appeared; she had never felt it to be of dire need to make changes to such a trivial matter.

She moved the mouse over to the internet icon and double clicked; she generally checked her e-mails first thing had there not been a case under her supervision, as she didn't really get that many; more so because she greatly felt handwritten sentiments to be much more meaningful than e-mails. After all, any fool could set up a fake account and mislead her into believing they're someone of merit or such.

Once the page pulled up, a woman's voice sounded out in German _"Sie Haben Post!" _Admittedly, the woman's voice in Franziska's native language sounded much less pleasant than it did when she had heard it in English, but she just chalked that up to accent. More importantly, she had mail, though.

_Lester Wimhodge from the United States? What a foolish name befitting of a fool._

She clicked on the unread letter and it took her to the body of the letter;

_Greetings!_

_My name is Lester Wimhodge; I'm currently studying to become a prosecuting attorney, and I was wondering if The Prodigy herself could offer any advice? It'd be greatly appreciated!_

She couldn't hide a smirk, even though no one could see it; _Well, I guess THE premier prodigy of the Prosecutor's office could bless this young thoroughbred with some advice; at least he knows his place._

She began typing, her leather-clad fingers striking each key, resulting in a mistake-free letter.

_Well, Lester Wimhodge, don't trust detectives in America. Every one I've met has been utterly foolish and shockingly incompetent. Gather the evidence yourself. Also, the defense attorney's in that country seem to bluff much more than they do in Germany, so don't fall for it. The ones I've faced in court can come up with some extremely far-fetched ideas. Be sure to smite their foolish ideations with the proper evidence._

She went blank after that, but felt it was advice enough. It was nice to know that her title as the prodigy was known by all parts of the world. She hit the send button and sat back in her chair, overtaken by the feelings of pride flowing through her at the moment. Her moment of serenity was interrupted by a knock on her door.

_"Frau von Karma? Der Kaffee ist fertig."_

She got up and walked over to the door and opened it. (She wouldn't have done this had she not been the only one able to open it.) The gangly intern handed her the cup of coffee; _"4 Zuckers, 3 Cremes."_

She took a sip. He'd gotten it right the 2nd time this try, an improvement; however, she saw no reason for it taking two times to get such a simple order correct.

_"Sie Leben einen anderen Tag, Intern."_

With that, she shut the door and went back to her seat, opening the drawer the contained only the picture of her and Miles Edgeworth in their youth, and pulled it out to look at it, as she did for a moment each day, recalling those days spent with him as a child; some of the best times of her life.

* * *

**TRANSLATIONS (In order of appearance):**

**Ah, Ms. von Karma, your morning coffee, just like you ordered it. **

**Wrong!**

**I am sorry, Ms. von Karma! I am sorry!**

**4 sugars, 3 cremes! You fool!**

**You've got mail!**

**Ms. von Karma? Your coffee is ready.**

**You live another day, intern.**


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

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**A/N: Alright, so, Chapter 3. You know, I love reviews. Just saying. I won't ever hold my stories hostage, but you know, every writer on here loves reviews. It makes us feel appreciated, does it not? We all like to feel appreciated :P **

**Anyway, dudes, now that I'm done begging, Chapter 3 picks up now. There's something you all should know about my writing style that I think some of you dudes might not have picked up on; whenever a main character has a premonition, they're right 99% of the time.**

**Happy Reading Dudes!**

**-ghostfacekiller39**

* * *

It's funny how nerves can affect one of the most calm and rational men in America; he hadn't left his office ever since arriving that morning, and the time of day was now approaching 7 p.m.

He took a sip of his tea he had brought over from the Gatewater not only 15 minutes ago; he felt giving the bell boy an extra tip was a must, considering that was his 4th delivery to his office that day alone. He let out a long sigh as he watched the sun set in the distant sky, creating a metaphorical water-color portrait of pink and orange over the Los Angeles skyline; he had put it off for 12 hours, and it was time for him to 'man-up', or so they said.

He sat at the computer and moved the mouse, turning on the monitor, which had been sitting on the e-mail Franziska had sent him in reply for at least 8 hours now; it had taken him another 3 just to gather up the courage to pull up her reply. He didn't want to say anything wrong; but what was really troubling him was what could be the consequences of his actions. What was worse is that if he had replied and she responded once more, then he had no way out of it; he would've started something that he had to go through with. In a sense, this message could be more important than the first one.

He glared at the cursor blinking where he would be starting the letter, seemingly taunting him, egging him on with a cold, emotionless disappearing and reappearing act. He sighed.

_What am I doing? I need to stop this, now. I can just write her letters and other things._

With that, he started typing.

_Thank you so much! I will keep your advice in mind as I grow as a prosecutor. It's truly an honor to receive such wonderful advice from a legendary prosecutor such as yourself! Thank you for your time!_

With that, he hit send, hoping to end this charade once and for all; it just wasn't right. He didn't think she deserved to be misled like this, and maybe this monstrosity he'd created could be put to rest. This scheme was almost Butz-esque, anyway.

With that, he hit the send key, actually feeling a wave of relief sweep over him.

* * *

_The next morning..._

_CRACK CRACK CRACK! _

Franziska was furious. How many times does it take to get an order right!? Especially a simple cup of coffee!

_"3 mal! Es hat 3 mal! Du Narr, du bist eigentlich noch schlimmer geworden!"_

The intern started cowering again, and let out a squeaky whimper. He ran for his 4th attempt at getting her coffee right.

_I'm beginning to think he's messing it up on purpose..._ she began rolling up her whip to set, hopefully, beside her chair. She couldn't have been more disappointed to see her desk top free of new case files once more; she was honestly thinking of taking on a larceny case or something along those lines just to get back in the courtroom.

She had felt a bit of a rut coming over her; bored wasn't a strong enough word to describe how she had been feeling. She actually wanted a crime to happen, just to break this tedious routine she had sunken into. She pulled out the picture of herself as a 7-year-old, curtsying to a bowing Miles Edgeworth, aged 15; she had the butler take this picture for her 7th birthday, as her papa was away on business and she didn't even get a present that year (Manfred von Karma always got her a textbook on prosecuting or something along those lines.) She remembered how resistent Miles was at first, but her riding crop took that obstinence out of him.

She subconsciously pulled up her email account as she looked at her favorite picture; _"Sie Haben Post!" _

_Lester Wimhodge again? Probably just extending his gratitude for my wonderous advice._

She began reading the message to herself;

_Thank you so much! I will keep your advice in mind as I grow as a prosecutor. It's truly an honor to receive such wonderful advice from a legendary prosecutor such as yourself! Thank you for your time!_

Franziska was unsure of whether she should respond or not; she had gotten her point across, so there was no point in wasting more of her time helping along this boy.

All of a sudden, she looked back down at the picture of her and Edgeworth; she let out a high-pitched sigh and typed a response.

_If you need further council, I suggest Miles Edgeworth; he's a fairly capable prosecutor in his own right. _

With that, she hit the send key with a bit of an uncharacteristic smile, only to be immediately wiped off of her face by the sound of an intern's knocking.

_"Frau von Karma? Der Kaffee ist fertig."_

* * *

**TRANSLATIONS (In order):**

**3 times! It took 3 times! You fool, you've actually gotten worse!**

**Ms. von Karma? Your coffee is ready.**

* * *

**A/N: Andddd...I don't know whose perspective to write Ch. 4 from. It might just be a bridge chapter with alternating 3rd person limited set to a Goo Goo Dolls song or something. I might just listen to the song as I write it, and leave the track name but not try to force it onto anyone. **

**AA's Serene Place, my profile for more details on it, and help out all the world by reviewing, not just my own story, but it'd be cool if everyone could just write up 2 or 3 reviews a day on any stories they feel deserves one. You know, it's a scientific fact that every time a review is left on an AA fanfic, a crack addict gets cleaned up and joins a book club, therefore integrating themselves into society by attending social gatherings. Ok, done trying to be funny, but review. Not just mine, as many as you can. I try for 3 a day, personally. Anyway, if you write on here, don't you just love getting reviews, especially to a story that has meaning to you? Try and create that feeling for as many people as possible :P You're helping out another person and it doesn't take hardly any time or effort.**

**Anyway, Happy Reading Dudes!**

**-ghostfacekiller39**


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

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_Stateside..._

* * *

When Miles Edgeworth went home that night, he took off his red overcoat almost immediately, leaving the black vest he wore over his long white sleeved undershirt on. He then took off his shoes at the door after he had hung the red garment he wore in public on the coat stand by his door, leaving on a pair of black socks on his feet; he pondered loosening his cravat, but he decided against it. After he had changed into a more comfortable attire to lounge around his home in, he made his way towards the living room where his friend Pesu lay in the floor and his large TV sat, gathering dust.

He had missed the evening news by hours, and he didn't particularly enjoy the nightly news. To make matters worse, a Steel Samurai marathon started that night at 1 a.m, lasting until he usually checked into his office the next morning; he didn't have set hours at the offices, so checking in 30 minutes late wouldn't have bothered anyone.

He pondered turning on the TV, but decided against it. He had an urge to write a poem for some reason; he pulled a small journal out from underneath his vest and a pen with it, and did something he hadn't done in a long while; he wrote what he felt.

* * *

**_My Place on the Hill_**

_You may not know it,_

_But sometimes I go to a hill that overlooks the landscape's mask of city lights;_

_For a sip of fleeting grace._

_I'm on the edge of everything that I know;_

_And I feel as if I can gain an eyeful of the lost Atlantis that lies within a human soul;_

_but the feeling escapes me as my lungs fill with a breath of the air between the stars and the moon._

_If you were only able to catch this elation in the framework of your mind;_

_Or if you can find transcendence through these words;_

_You would still know nothing of the beauty your existence throws to me._

_Because my love is a love that absolutely nothing can degrade into reality by virtue of degree._

* * *

Edgeworth smirked; _Hmmm...it's one of my better works, if I do say so myself. _

He had taken up poetry in secret during his days at the von Karma manor; it had allowed him to escape from the cruel, cold world he had been thrust into at such a young age, at least for a few moments.

With that, he shut his small journal and put it back into his pocket; it was around 10 o'clock now, meaning it was nearing noon in Germany; maybe a quick look into Lester Wimhodge's e-mail account could give him another outlet to save him from his boredom until the marathon started. It had only been 3 hours since Lester's last e-mail to Franziska, and maybe, just maybe, she had replied; he doubted it, but it wouldn't hurt to check and see.

He got up to go to his home computer, intentionally, yet subconsciously numbing his mind in the event of any negative thoughts or self-doubts. Once he had seated himself before the desk on which a blank computer monitor stared back at him, he pulled up the forsaken e-mail account that had been the root of his problems as of late; he loved communicating with Franziska, but by no means did he feel this was an appropriate way of doing so.

"_You've got mail!"_

_What is this? _She HAD replied; half of him instantly began hoping for it being just a simple farewell, but the other half began hoping otherwise; a true conflict of interest. He clicked on the message, pulling up the body of a rather short, yet striking response.

_If you need further council, I suggest Miles Edgeworth; he's a fairly capable prosecutor in his own right. _

He was at a loss for words, but yet this loss made him feel...happy, joyous, jovial, chipper...oh, not enough words could begin to describe the joy he was masking behind those gray eyes at her response.

Should he respond? Should he not? The war inside of him had started, temporarily pushing those thoughts of happiness aside for a reality check. He held his fingers over the keyboard, grasping for the words to say.

All of a sudden, he realized that if there were to be someone watching him do this, they wouldn't be able to tell about this war raging on inside of him; they would just see Miles Edgeworth seated at a computer. He was a logical, rational human being on all fronts, especially when there was at least one other person present. All he had to do was channel that logical outward appearance to his emotional persona.

He began typing;

_I will keep that in mind, Ms. von Karma; I've heard of him, and I'm sure he'll be willing to give me advice. _

He mulled over whether he should continue the e-mail; she was called the prodigy for a reason, but her advice was not what he had set up this account for, but Franziska was a woman you had to work for; you couldn't just come out and start trying to be romantic towards her; he needed her trust, and that was something he questioned even Miles Edgeworth had, let alone Lester Wimhodge.

_Also, I hear studying the legal systems of other contries may be of some help; would it be troubling for you to discuss the legal system in Germany with me?_

With that, he hit send, checking the clock on his monitor after he had done so; oh, how time had flown during the time he spent composing the few sentences that made up Lester Wimhodge's response. He needed to go get ready for the Steel Samurai marathon starting shortly.

* * *

_In Germany, midway through the Steel Samurai marathon..._

* * *

As soon as Franziska had returned from the Berlin Prosecutor's office, she dropped down tiredly on the most comfortable chair in the von Karma manor; the one that had used to belong to her father, Manfred von Karma. She had, in secret, gotten rid of most of his belongings, but ever since she was a small child, she had wanted to sit in that chair, and when she did for the first time, she knew she wasn't about to just store it away in the unit that contained the rest of his things.

She was so tired, however, because the manor was located in the German countryside, 5 or 6 miles out of the Berlin city limits, and she had gotten caught in horrible traffic on her drive back to her house; especially when she got cut off by some fool and honked her horn at him, and he had gotten out of his car yelling; a few cracks of the whip, and he ran back to his abnormally large automobile with his tail between his legs. She checked the time; 6 o'clock. It had been a long day.

She set her whip on the floor beside her and pulled out her small journal; she had a few of these stored up in her room, filled with sketches and drawings; it was just something she enjoyed to do.

She instantly began drawing a picture of the first thing that had popped into her mind, and began furiously putting all sorts of shades and hues onto the formerly white sheet of paper, immersing herself into her work until a deep, throaty voice broke her concentration.

"_Frau von Karma? Abendessen wird serviert werden." _It was the large, sweaty butler who had been working for her family for as long as she could remember.

_CRACK! "RUHE! Ich werde nich gestört werden; Abendessen wird aufgeschoben werden, bis auf meine und ich erwarten, dass es frisch serviert. Bin ich klar!?"_

With that he quickly nodded, and whimpered as he walked away. Franziska began mumbling under her breath. _"Dummer Butler, dachte er könnte töricht stört mich, wie der Narr will..." _With that, she continued her drawing.

20 minutes passed, and after she had left a cloud of eraser shavings around her, her work was complete; she held up her journal to where only she could see it. The result of her work was a black and white picture of her and Miles Edgeworth embracing each other; one she was going to keep secret, but she was proud of it nonetheless.

* * *

**TRANSLATIONS: **

**Ms. von Karma? Dinner is ready.**

**Quiet! I am not to be bothered; dinner will be put off until my notice, and still expect it to be served fresh. Am I clear?**

**Foolish butler, thinking he could foolishly bother me as the fool pleases...**

* * *

**A/N: The next chapter will pick up with Franziska's part coming first :P **

**I'm going to try to stop leaving so many Author's notes, I don't want to distract the readers very much. I'm just going to leave short ones at the bottom like this if there's a point I need to get across or something of the sort.**

**AA's Serene Place, more details about it on my profile, and Happy Reading Dudes!**

**-ghostfacekiller39**


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

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_December 3rd, 2008_

* * *

It was a stormy night, and the sound of the rain hitting the large window panes of the von Karma manor had kept Franziska awake; the rain itself seemed to be a mixture of those big, soft, slow raindrops that made a loud _THUD_ when they hit the window, and the fast, smaller ones that seemed to sting you when you got caught outside in it; whatever the case may have been, it was an abnormally loud rain.

The 9-year old (She was 2 days removed from her 9th birthday, and Miles Edgeworth's 17th was still 2 days away) threw her blankets and sheets off of her, picking up the riding crop that lay beside her in bed to storm her way down into the kitchen; almost nothing made her as mad as an inability to sleep.

Since her papa employed a full-time staff of servants, a member of the night staff greeted her.

SMACK!

The butler didn't even say anything, nor did Franziska in response; she didn't want to be bothered at that time, she just wanted some warm milk or something to help her sleep, which, if that foolish butler didn't hurry up and get said warm milk for her, she would have to report his lack of work ethic to papa. She shouldn't have to tell him what she wanted, either; he should just know. That's what he's paid for.

Fortunately, for the Butler's sake, he had been in this situation before; both of them, actually, just never at the same time.

She went into the dining hall to be greeted by the refreshing aroma of fresh-brewed tea; it crept its way into her nostrils as she saw Miles Edgeworth seated at the dining hall table, sipping on a cup of tea and writing in his journal.

She couldn't hide her surprise at the sight of him outside of his room this time of night; he opted to stay shut in it 95% of the day, it seemed. The sight of him stopped her dead in her tracks; _What was he doing here? _

She wasn't entirely aware of it, but Franziska was anything but a sociable child; and not out of shyness, either. Miles Edgeworth was the closest thing she'd ever had to a friend, but you couldn't tell her that. Who needed friends, anyway?

She took her seat across from him, and he looked up from his journal to greet her;

"...You must have had trouble sleeping through this storm as well, Franziska..." He said, a half-smile on his face. They hadn't talked very much at all since she had grown past the age of 4 or 5.

"Hmph." _Foolish fool. How dare he be able to claim himself a disciple of the house of von Karma!_

The night butler came in and sat her glass of warm milk in front of her, promptly leaving the room after doing so.

Miles Edgeworth looked back down to his journal rather meekly, and Franziska set her riding crop down on the long table so she could hold the rather large glass with both hands.

She glared at him as she drank her milk; he was scribbling and jotting something in that little book of his. The sound of the pencil lead hitting the paper eventually became too much for her child-like curiosity to handle.

_SMACK! _She struck the top of the dining table, and then pointed her riding crop at her adopted sibling seated across from her; "Miles Edgeworth! What are you so hurriedly jotting down in that small composition book?"

He looked back up shyly; he'd never been very much of a talker all of his life, but when he did, you knew he meant every word he said, and the sentences he had spoken had layer upon layer of depth to them. Franziska didn't know it, but it'd been like that all of his life; he generally wouldn't speak unless spoken to, or there was a need for him to.

"O-oh...it's...it's, umm...poetry..." He had meekly clutched his elbow and turned his eyes to the ground after uttering those words.

Franziska didn't notice his body movements; What she noticed was that strange word at the end of his sentence. "Poultry? What is that? How is it related to prosecuting?"

"O-oh, Poetry...umm, it's not...it's just...something I do..." His gaze was now fixated on the ground beneath his feet; Manfred von Karma being her father alone was enough to make him a bit frightened of her, and her hostile demeanor didn't help too much, either.

Franziska's curiosity continued getting the better of her. "Let me see this poachery, Miles Edgeworth!"

"...Poetry..."

_SMACK! _He quickly handed the book to her and she read the page it was already opened to; as her eyes went down the page, they widened; she began hanging on to each and every word, until she finished (much to her disappointment that it had ended.)

All of a sudden, Franziska had a realization; _If an Edgeworth can do something this good, a von Karma could do it even better!_

_SMACK! _She hit her whip against the dining hall table. "Miles Edgeworth, you will teach me how to write this...er...this!" She was still having trouble with the English language a small bit, but, fortunately for her, Miles Edgeworth was understanding of this, and didn't make fun of her; not like he had the bravery to do so at the time, anyway.

"O-ok..." With that, he got up, teacup in hand, and went over to her side of the table and began going over the basics of poetry with her.

Now, Franziska, like Miles, had always been an extremely fast learner; She felt she could learn to do it at the snap of her papa's fingers; so she rushed it too much, and everything she wrote sounded like rubbish. Even Franziska von Karma herself, with von Karma pride and arrogance flowing through her veins, had to admit this; it was truly that awful. She began getting frustrated to the point she was gritting her teeth together so hard, it was as if she could feel them grinding away; she had never failed at anything before in her life, and it was definitely not something she enjoyed. She just wanted to hit someone with her riding crop...someone standing right beside her.

She reared back with her left hand, riding crop in its leather-clad grip; Miles caught notice of this and quickly put his hand up to stop her from bruising him; "Fr-Franziska, it's ok; Poetry's not for everyone." He quickly began searching for something to say; anything, and finally, within a moment's notice, it came to him.

"Have you tried drawing?"

She temporarily lowered her left hand; "Drawering?" She began thinking; "Hmmmm...are you good at it?"

Edgeworth sort of smirked; he knew what to say from here on out. "No. Not at all, Franziska." A little white-lie wouldn't have really hurt anything; after all, she didn't have to know about the all the awards he had received in his old school back in the United States; especially the ones for his art.

That smarmy von Karma smirk came back over her face as she pointed her riding crop at Edgeworth; "Then I shall become the best drawerer in the world! I'll be the perfect drawerer! A drawerering prodigy!"

Edgeworth smirked; her struggles with the English language made her sound all cutesy, and the contrasting viciousness of her nature didn't really help her sound mature and serious like he knew she wanted; still, it was remarkable to him that a 9-year old could become (almost) fluent in two languages. He left his pencil at the table and tore out a couple of pages of his notebook to go with it before going back to his room.

"Goodnight, Franziska."

"Hmph."

Once he was out of sight, Franziska began trying to think of what to draw, but only one thing could come to mind at that moment; she checked to see if anyone was around, and when she saw no one else in the dining hall, she began her first work of art on that rainy night.

A picture of her and Miles Edgeworth, the first of many more to come.

* * *

_Present time_

The beeping and buzzing of the alarm clock beside Franziska's bed should have been what woke her up that morning to get ready for her day at the Berlin Prosecutor's Offices; but it had been a heavy rain the previous night, and heavy rains like that only reminded her of one thing:

The night she fell in love with Miles Edgeworth, all those years ago.

* * *

**A/N: I know, no e-mails in this chapter. I got to listening to Turnabout Sisters from the first game, and it made me want to write a flashback chapter like this for back story :P The next chapter was already in the works when I started this, and it will be published as chapter 6. **

**Yes, they are both unaware of each other's feelings. Yes, the e-mail's will continue.**

**And yes, I did give each main character a birthday in my headcanon. The characters I like the most I gave the birthdays of myself for one and people really close to me for the others.**

**Also, I want to acknowledge my personal favorite and currently most viewed work of mine, The Road Paved by Blood and Tears, on breaking 4,000 views last night.**

**AA's Serene Place, my profile for more details on it, R&R...**

**Happy Reading Dudes!**

**-ghostfacekiller39**


	6. Chapter 6: Impulse

CHAPTER 6

* * *

_IMPULSE:_

_1. _

_the influence of a particular feeling, mental state, etc.: to act under a generous impulse; to strike out at someone from an angry impulse. _

_2. _

_sudden, involuntary inclination prompting to action: to be swayed by impulse. _

* * *

_Across the Atlantic..._

* * *

When Franziska von Karma arrived at the Berlin Prosecutor's Office that morning, she was pleasantly surprised to find the intern had gotten her coffee right on the first try. However, even though there was no need to lash him with her whip, it just didn't feel right had she not done just that.

_CRACK!_

Once the intern had scurried out of her office, she got up to close the door behind him. It was far from transparent, but she was in one of her 'good moods'; that term being used loosely, of course.

What made it even more strange was the lack of sleep she had gotten that night; it couldn't have been more than an hour or two, at most; but the combination of those large soft raindrops and those small biting ones caused her most precious memory to resurface, and it was still fresh on her mind.

She didn't sigh at the sight of her desk not having a case report on it; she just lay her whip where one should've been and got on her computer to check her e-mail; she felt as if she'd taken up a mentor's role with this Lester Wimhodge person, and it was one she was proud of, but more so because she was most likely mentoring a future prosecutor a year or two older than herself, rather than the fact she was mentoring a future prosecutor alone.

_"Sie Haben Post!"_

Lester Wimhodge, as expected; she pondered looking down the rest of her e-mails, but stopped herself when she realized that'd only anger her, ruining this mood she was in. Plus, she didn't need to look down; they were all right there in front of her.

She clicked on the e-mail from Wimhodge; every time she looked at that name, it sounded stranger and stranger.

_I will keep that in mind, Ms. von Karma; I've heard of him, and I'm sure he'll be willing to give me advice. _

_Also, I hear studying the legal systems of other countries may be of some help; would it be troubling for you to discuss the legal system in Germany with me?_

Franziska moved her hands over the keys and began typing her response.

_Well, Lester Wimhodge, the legal system in Germany is actually quite different from the legal system in America, but it shares some distinct similarities as well..._

She went on to give a compare/contrast analysis of the American and the German legal systems of absolutely perfect quality, of course. She hit enter, sending the e-mail overseas in the blink of an eye.

Once she was done with that, she had really nothing else to do that day; she pondered giving that intern a bunch of near impossible orders in order to amuse herself and pass the time, but before she could call him to her office, another idea popped into her head that the rest of her simply refused to argue.

She got onto a travel site and purchased a first class, round-trip ticket to the United States.

She did so for only one reason; one man, actually; but Lester Wimhodge gave her a false alibi, of course.

She purchased the tickets for a flight the next afternoon and went back to her e-mail account.

She clicked on the thread of messages between her and Lester Wimhodge and began another one; _I shall be in the United States later this week for work; if you want to further discuss other prosecutorial strategies and such with me, I suggest you set up an appointment in your next message._

She hit send and went to go inform the Chief Prosecutor that she was finally going to use some of her many days off she had accumulated over the past 6 years.

* * *

_Stateside..._

* * *

Miles Edgeworth lost his breath after reading Franziska's response.

_No...why...how...? _

His Butz-esque plan had finally managed to blow up in his face. He couldn't just say no; that'd make what he'd done even worse. He couldn't just say yes and have Lester Wimhodge set up an appointment with her, either. There was no Lester Wimhodge.

He started building his composure back up, slowly but surely, to try to think of a way to handle this.

45 minutes later, the King of Logic had failed to use his best weapon; his mind.

He took of his red over coat and his cravat along with it, allowing a frustrated sigh to escape his lungs as he rubbed his temples due to the headache that had spawned itself within his forehead. All he knew he had until she arrived, which he didn't know when that was going to be.

He then remembered _him;_ a certain defense lawyer who heavily relied on bluffing when cross-examining witnesses. That was all he had to do.

He had to bluff it just like his old friend did.

He began typing his response, having an inner monologue with himself.

_I'm such a fool! I acted entirely on impulse, throwing my own poise and rationality aside for some...some idiotic plan that has no chance of actually working! ...I've been doing you wrong, Franziska von Karma, and for that, I apologize for my mistakes with all my heart._

* * *

_Ah, yes; I'd love to, but I'm rather busy with law school at the moment. If you could contact me when you enter the country, then we may be able to set something up then._

* * *

He hit send, and instantly began planning his next move, as if it were a game of chess.

_...Why does it have to be a game, though?_

* * *

**A/N: They both acted on impulse. That's one of the 3 themes I'm using. Nervousness, Impulse, and I'm not revealing the last one. The impulse theme will be 2 to 4 chapters long, and the last one will be 1 to 2.**

**AA's Serene Place, more details about it on my profile, R&R.**

**Happy Reading! :P**

**-ghostfacekiller39**


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

* * *

_Stateside..._

* * *

It was 12 o'clock that night; the night Lester Wimhodge had received word of Franziska's depature to America sometime in the near future.

He hadn't been able to sleep that night; he wasn't one for staying up late and prowling with the night owls, per se, but he had been lying in bed wide awake for around an hour and a half when the Steel Samurai's theme began blaring from his phone that lay charging on his nightstand.

He sleepily reached over to his opposite side to pick it up. He had only been able to locate it due to the sounds eminating from the phone itself; it was pitch black in his room at that time of night, as it usually was.

He focused his eyes in on the caller ID, and once he saw the name and the accompanying picture, he answered without a second thought on his mind; if _she _had been calling this late (or, technically, early; on both sides of the line, time zones taken into consideration, of course.) it either had to be an emergency or something else, pertaining to the usual arrangement between them.

And logic had led Miles Edgeworth to the conclusion that it was the latter of the two.

"Yes? Miles Edgeworth speaking."

"Miles Edgeworth. I am to be coming to America today for business matters; I expect our usual arrangement to be in place."

He quickly responded, masking the drowsiness in his voice. "Of course, Franziska; what time will you be arriving?"

"...I am to be departing at noon; 3 a.m., Pacific time. I shall be arriving between 2 and 4 p.m., Pacific time, if the flight goes accordingly."

_Great, I bet you made sure to arrive at the airport's busiest hour, didn't you? _he thought to himself, one of his sly teases that he had only ever allowed to surface within his thoughts; she was not the kind of woman to take kindly to such juvenile styles of flirting. "Until then, Franziska; I must be going to bed now, though."

"Hmph."

With that, they simultaneously hung up their phones.

* * *

_In Germany..._

* * *

Franziska looked at her phone screen for a moment after she had hung up. They had always had that small arrangement, being the one to greet the other at the airport upon their arrival.

The butler had finished packing all of Franziska's belongings.

_"Frau von Karma...? Ich glaube, dass Sie bereit sind."_

She turned her attention to the man with a cold glare in her eyes, causing him to tremble in intimidation.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..." _CRACK!_

_"Ach!"_

Franziska grabbed her suitcase by the handle and began rolling it down the hallway of von Karma manor, ignoring the butler who had so painstakingly packed her belongings in a way she would be pleased with to go to the car running outside that was waiting to take her to the airport.

It had been a while since she had spoken to Miles; they'd usually exchange letters every now and again, but it had been a long time since she had received anything, although she was certain it had been her not to write back.

She just hadn't known what to say.

Her mind remained clouded throughout the ride to the airport, a fact she was greatly aware of, but wouldn't admit for all the money and fame in the world. She could've tried regaining a sense of rationality and thought over the consequences her exceedingly impulsive actions could possibly create, and how they were certainly more than unbecoming of a von Karma such as herself, a name that suffered nothing from fools, to which her behavior was certainly befitting of. She could've thought about all these things; about what would be right, about what would be rational, and about what a von Karma should do...

...but she just enjoyed the German countryside passing by her window instead.

* * *

_3 p.m., Pacific Standard Time._

* * *

Miles Edgeworth slowly walked over to a seat in the airport waiting lounge; the airport itself was rather hectic at the time, and he was having a bit of trouble forcing his way through to find a place to sit.

Once he finally forced his way through the crowd and took his spot in a chair, he put an end to the external conflict by adjusting his cravat, as it had fallen out of place as he was pushing his way through the fat, sweaty businessmen that seemed to be spawning from within the airport at this time.

However, once he figuratively hammered the final nail into the coffin of what was happening around him, a new conflict arose from within him; one that was far greater than fighting through a crowd of a bunch of fat, sweaty suits yammering away on their cell phones.

A war inside his head was raging; he had been doing this woman he cared about deeply so, so wrong over the past few days, and had accomplished little out of it other than just idle conversation for things he had already known.

_Oh..! But she personally recommended me to Lester Wimhodge for further counsel!_

_...but logic is guiding me to believe that she most likely wouldn't do so again if she found out Lester Wimhodge's true identity..._

His train of thought shattered when the piercing sounds of an iFly Jet landing seared through the airport lounge, followed by Franziska von Karma walking through the airport gates, whip and suitcase in tow.

He stood up as she made his way towards him, and everything around the two of them seemed to freeze in place. He softly smirked and placed a hand in his pocket, and the war raging and the cogs turning inside of his almost machine-like mind took a break, if only temporarily.

Once she had become within conversational distance, her voice rang through his ears like a song; albeit, it was somewhat of a bittersweet melody.

"Greetings, Miles Edgeworth. I trust you have made the proper arrangements and our ride is awaiting outside the airport?"

He smiled at this, but it was so that only the ends of his mouth slightly curved, invisible to the naked eye; "Per usual, Franziska."

When possible, they always served as a bit of an escort to each other at the airport. In this case, he'd meet her at the airport and arrange a ride for the two of them to her hotel, at which point he'd walk her up to her room and go about his business for the day. It did happen the other way around as well, and if they saw each other past that point was almost never planned.

She crossed her arms, and a man appeared to take suitcase. "Hmph. Make haste, Miles Edgeworth."

With that, she turned and walked off towards the car he had prepared.

He stood and watched her push her way through the crowd, which almost seemed to clear out from around her as she walked.

He smirked; "Hmph...by the way of iFly Airlines..."

And with that, followed after her.

* * *

**_TRANSLATIONS: _**

**_Ms. von Karma, I believe you are ready._**

* * *

**A/N: Sorry I haven't been able to update in a few days. School started, I've been so busy, blah blah blah...**

**Anyway, I will be updating less frequently now that school started; probably once a week. However, dudes, I will be able to update probably twice a week when things start slowing down, which would be after my high school football team's season, which will end soon enough, believe me. Our varsity has the talent of a middle school team, but since I'm in Texas, people freak out about football, whether your team has lost 17 straight games or not. We're more of a girl-powered school, anyway :P (No joke.) Plus, school'd be in a groove by then and people wouldn't be rushing around to figure everything out.**

**You know, I've been rather strapped for material as well, so next chapter, I'm going to incorporate something that just happened last night with my, as Pearl would say, 'Special Someone', into the next chapter. I mean, her reaction to it was very Franziska-esque, so all I'd really have to do was move a few things around, and boom. Just thought I'd share that.**

**You should know the drill by now, dudes.**

**-ghostfacekiller39**


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